


After the Truth

by Kairosiia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character building, Engineering, F/M, Fighting, Friends to Lovers, Hand to Hand Combat, INFP Reader, Into The Unknown, Reader is a left-brained woman, Slightly altered canon universe, Undercover, cowardice, cursing, depictions of violence, lying, secretive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-23 05:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15599181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairosiia/pseuds/Kairosiia
Summary: "Armin..."He glanced up from your sketchbook, his smile fading when he noticed your apparent discomfort.After a moment's hesitation, you met his gaze, eyebrows creased with worry."What I am about to tell you is going to sound absolutely insane. I know I promised not to keep secrets from you... but this is something that I think I've always known, even before I joined the Survey Corps. Something that I've been too scared of to bring to the light. Something... dangerous.I just want to know that... you'll hear me out."Armin studied your gaze for a minute. He closed the book before sitting up and facing you directly."Of course I will," he breathed.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This storyline has been in my mind for about a year, and as I have one month before I head off to university, I've made it my goal to hunker down and complete an entire fanfiction. This is the first one I have ever written, and I look forward to improving my writing and storytelling as I go along!  
> Psst: I'm putting together a Pinterest board dedicated to this story! Check it out here: https://pin.it/fxpmucs2qqubeq or look it up under my username, Kairosiia  
> I also have a Spotify playlist in the works: https://open.spotify.com/user/th95tvw358fphomjg0xugoawf/playlist/1UzSAdn2ICMxCMk8KgtSvO?si=xdEowUXsRDu46C0wF51Cqw

 

“But Papa, I don’t _want_ to go.”

Your father sat back in his chair, sighing. “Sweetheart, I understand that you would prefer that I continue to homeschool you here. However, the fact that there is now a school nearby for you to attend, that is incredibly valuable.” He rubbed his eyes momentarily before returning his gaze to you, softer than before. “Believe me when I say that if I could, I would continue to teach you without a moment’s hesitation. You are doing so well with arithmetic, too.” 

The compliment brought a small smile to your face, and you finally looked up from your wooden bowl of oatmeal to meet your father’s gaze. His eyes were twinkling with pride. 

“You’ll be a bit ahead of your classmates, but don’t let that get to your head. The curriculum will catch up quickly.” He got up from his seat, adjusted his faded wool coat and reached for his hat. He ruffled your hair as he walked past you, chuckling at your protest. 

“I need to head out now, but I trust that you’ll find your way to school, hm? And try to make some friends!” You let out a hum of confirmation as you scrambled to finish up your meal. You spun around in your seat, mouth full of bland oatmeal. “Bye!”

“I’ll see you later tonight, sweetheart.” Your father opened the door and stepped out, but not before reprimanding you for talking with your mouth full. “It is not ladylike, [y/n]!” You stuck your tongue out at him, goop dripping off it and onto the floor. As he shut the door and began his walk to work, he shook his head, smiling. _She’s just like her mother,_ he mused, gazing up at the dark, murky ceiling of the Underground. _May she remain safe under your gaze._

 

 

_-_

 

You headed out not long afterwards. You hastily wiped up the splotch of oatmeal on the creaking floorboard with your thumb, then wiped it on your linen skirt. It was a piece of clothing that was hard to come by in the Underground, as it was imported in from the Above. Your mother had often scolded you for being so quick to dirty your clothing, whether it be from tinkering with knick knacks your father collected to drawing shapes in the dirt with your hands. However, from your incessant pleading with her to join you, she’d often give in and hike her skirt up, kneeling onto the ground to draw with you. You knew she loved it too, so why did she try to act any different? 

You paused by the door, looking at the windowsill to your left. On it sat your most valued possession: a tin can full of so-called “junk”; chipped pieces of metal, rocks, nails, and the likes. Things you experimented with, building funny structures with them just to tear it down right after. You often fiddled with its contents while studying and it helped you focus. You itched to bring it along to school with you, but your father did say to be more ladylike. And messing around with junk would _not_ be a proper thing to do.

Sighing, you quickly headed out, not bothering to lock the door. Your father had built a little device and attached it to the door, allowing it to instantly lock up on its own. He’s built quite a few cool gadgets, and you loved to admire them in his study while he scribbled away at his paperwork. He always refused to tell you about them in detail, though, often shooing you away to do something else. 

You were grateful to live in the better area of the Underground. It was closer to the staircase that led to the Above, so the market thrived slightly better as visitors from the military frequented the place. You lived with your father, but you did have one other family member to your knowledge that lived in the Underground: your grandmother, whom you have rarely seen as she resides in the most dangerous part of town. The last time you visited her was when your mother was in her early stages of sickness. That was a little over three years ago; you wondered if your grandmother would recognize you if you were to see her again. You had only been four years old, after all.

You shrugged to yourself. Your father had told you that she did not want anything to do with the two of you after your mother had passed. Desperate to find medicine for his wife, your father spent nearly all of his savings on doctors and medicines, but nothing had worked. Your family fell into debt with the doctors of the Underground, and ever since then your father has been working numerous jobs to repay them. He never told you what exactly he did for work, but you didn’t mind because he often spent time with you when he was home, and that is what mattered most to you.

During that time, you often asked him why you all couldn't just go to the Above and give mother some medicine from there. You claimed that the Above wouldn't sell them placebo pills, that they would actually help your mother get well again.  _"Everything_ is better when it's from the Above, Papa!" However, each time you mentioned it, your father disagreed, informing you that there were many more opportunities for your family to thrive within the Underground. You didn't really believe him, but you stopped asking after a while. You did have everything you could ever want; your family, a steady food supply, and a roof over your head. As long as you stayed close to your family and didn't stray far from home, you could agree that the Underground was an alright place to live in. 

 

-

 

It felt strange being in a room with so many kids your age. Your father kept a tight hold of you ever since your mother passed away, so you weren’t able to socialize with others that often. You didn’t really know how to function, so you jiggled one of your legs as you sat on a stiff metal chair, imported in by the Above’s military themselves. The entire classroom was funded by them, actually, as boastfully declared by the teacher as he paced throughout the room. _Why is the military suddenly reaching down to us?_ You ponder, picking at the dried smear of oatmeal on your skirt, continuing to bounce your knee. You heard a cough above you, and you snapped back to reality, raising your gaze to find the teacher sneering down at you. 

“Distracted, are we?” He scolded, and tossed a stack of paper on your desk. “Why don’t you hand one of these out to everyone and get your jitters out, Ms. [l/n]?” Embarrassed, you duck your head in shame as you rise from your seat, doing as you’re instructed. A few of the kids snicker, but the majority stay quiet. As you hand out the papers, you quickly scan over your classmates. A handful of them were wearing clean uniforms, their heads held high. Those must have cost a fortune.  _Perhaps there is a military training program? Why else would they look so crisp?_

The rest of the students look almost sickly—they probably were. With rags for clothes and dirt smeared on their calves, you assumed they walked here from the bad side of town. A lengthy distance.

As you returned to your seat, the teacher resumed. “Now that you have paper, reach underneath your desks and pull out your designated quills and candlesticks. I will walk by to light them for you.”

The teacher, Mr. Dolowin to be exact, finished lighting everyone’s candlesticks and began to go over an English lesson, then soon dismissed you all to begin the assignment.

The student seated to your right sat down his quill, leaned back in his seat and groaned. “The candlelight is so weak, I can hardly see what I am writing! My eyes are hurting.” 

You perked up a bit. This was your chance to make a friend! “Well, there _is_ another option. I could bring you one for the next class.”

The boy looked at you, confused. “…What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know what it’s called, but…” you tried to portray the device with your hands. “It’s a ball of glass with some metal in it, and when you pull a cord attached to it, light shines out from it. Awfully bright, too!”

This grabbed the attention of the other kids as well. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” a young girl spoke out from behind you. You turned to face her. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a candle?”

“It wasn’t. I’m positive on that.” When you turned to face forward in your seat again, you notice that Mr. Dolowin was looking at you strangely. He walked to your desk, arms behind his back. “And where did you see this sort of light, [f/n]?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Well.. at home, of course. My father has one in his study.” You suddenly regretted speaking up at all. You didn't like how everyone’s attention was focused on you. You started picking at your cuticles.

Mr. Dolowin seemed to ponder this for a moment, before nodding once and returning to his desk. “I would recommend that you do not speak of such nonsense while in my classroom, Ms. [l/n].” He left it at that. You didn’t speak up again for the rest of the class.

 

-

 

“How was your first day of class, my little dove?”

You were surprised that your father was home before you. He often stayed at work until you were long asleep at night. “I decided to leave early today so we could celebrate. So tell me, how did it go?”

You walked in slowly, slipping off your shoes and taking a moment to feel the cool floorboard against your sore feet. Your father was busy at the stove, making some sort of scramble. You perked up a bit at the aroma. Were those... blueberries?

“Got these fresh from the market today,” your father says cheerily. “I know how much you love them.” He turns to face you, pan in hand, preparing to serve the pancakes. He ceases his action when he notices your glum expression. “...What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You seated yourself at the dining table while your father hesitantly resumed serving dinner.

“I made a fool out of myself today,” you sighed, stabbing at your pancake with your rusty fork. You stared down at a blueberry, watching it slowly ooze as you mashed it to a pulp. You could feel the worry radiating off of your father as he busied himself with his meal, but you were grateful that he wasn’t prying.

After a few bites, you set your fork down and look up at your father. “Papa... what is the name of that ball of light you have in your study?”

Your father stilled. “...What brings this up, dear?” He eyes you carefully.

You fidgeted around in your seat. “Well... one of my classmates was complaining about the lack of light from our candlesticks, so I mentioned that we have a round piece of glass that shines super bright... do you think I could bri—"

Your father bolted from his seat, rushing to your side. He grasped your shoulders firmly, forcing you to look him directly in the eye. “Who heard you say this?” He said urgently. Your eyes were wide, tears beginning to form.

“W-well I think the whole class did, a-and Mr. Dolowin came up and t-told me to stop speaking such nonsense—“

Your father cursed, released his hold on you, rushing to the window. He could see a group of men approaching from down the street.

Turning to face you, he looked straight into your fearful gaze. “[f/n], you know the path to your grandmother’s, correct?” You nodded shakily. “I need you to get there as fast as you can. Leave through the back door and bring nothing with you.”

“What’s going on, Papa?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I should have told you sooner. I was foolish to hold onto such things.. let alone expose you to them.” He meets your gaze again. “There is no time to explain it now. You must go. _NOW_!”

You didn’t have to be told twice. The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard in front of the door. You turned around and ran, barefoot, to the back door and into the backyard.

You stopped there, deciding to backpedal and lean flat against the exterior of your home, turning your head ever so slightly so that you could peek through the window. Why wasn’t Papa coming with you?

Two firm knocks on the door. You watch as your father approaches the door warily, opening it a fraction.

“How can I help you gentlemen on this fine evening?” You hear him say to the men, tersely. One of the men wedges his boot into the opening, swinging the door fully open so they can march in. Behind them, you see a fourth man, and your father tenses up when he sees him.

“It’s a shame that your daughter couldn’t keep her mouth shut…” the fourth man drawls, stopping in front of your father. Your eyes well up with tears. “…but we would have figured out your little secret sooner or later. It’s fortunate that it happened down here, among the rats. That makes it easier for us.”

Your father squared his jaw. “Do whatever you want with me. But do not dare touch her.”

The man chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll deal with her later. What we want to know is, just how many things have you brought with you that are down here?”

“Fuck you.”

The man sighed, albeit dramatically. “Looks like I’ll have to figure it out myself.” He signalled to the men. “Dispose of him.”

Two of the men grabbed hold of your father’s arms as he struggled to get free. The third unsheathed a knife, stepped behind him and reached around to the front of his neck.

You accidentally let out a yelp, and the fourth man whipped his head to look in your direction.

With his last breath, your father shouted out your name. _“RUN!”_

You ran as fast as your feet allow. You made it to the road before you hear your father scream in pain, echoing throughout the area. You felt your feet being torn to shreds from the ground, various bits of gravel and shattered glass mixed amongst the caked dirt, but you do not dare stop running. _This is all a dream,_ you told yourself, tears streaming down your face. _This isn’t real._

_…This was all my fault._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple more chapters of background before diving headfirst into the main plot.


	2. Daughter of a Scoundrel

You were a panting, sweaty mess when you reached the familiar wooden door. You give three light knocks, gritting your teeth in pain from the sharp, splintered wood scraping your knuckles.

It didn't take long for her to answer the door. She opened the door a fraction, glaring down at whoever could possibly be bothering her at this hour. When she realized who you were, her eyebrows creased in anger even more.

Your pulse was racing. “F-Father told me to come here. I know you hate me, b-but I don’t know what’s happening—“

Your grandmother scanned the area behind you before quickly grabbing the collar of your dress and hauling you into the house. You stumbled, yelping out in pain from the shards of glass in the soles of your feet digging in even deeper. Slamming the door shut and bolting it closed, she spun to face you. Wordlessly, she marched up to you, grabbed hold of your collar once more and led you down the hallway. Unexpectedly, she opened a tiny broom closet and threw you in it. You collapsed onto the floor, gasping.

“Keep your mouth shut, child.” She shoved the door closed, leaving you in absolute darkness. You were quivering, struggling to move yourself into a sitting position, so you settled for laying on your side, hair brushing against the straw hairs of a nearby broom. It was freezing in there, and smelled of mildew. All you wanted to do was slump down and cry, but you had no idea what your grandmother would do if you disobeyed her. You bit down on your lip, hard, staying as still as you possibly could. Shivers racked down your spine, and what felt like hours later, when it was really only a handful of minutes, you heard those firm knocks on her door. Knocks that would be implemented into your nightmares for months to come.

You squeezed your eyes shut, halfheartedly telling yourself that this is all a dream. You hear the men inquiring about your whereabouts to your grandmother, and she snorts.

“I exiled them out of my life _years_ ago. I told Eluard that if he ever set foot around here again, I would kill him and his daughter myself.”

“Fiery as always, Bellona. There is no need to be so aggressive. We’re simply asking around the area.”

“Uh-huh.”

You found yourself surprised that the men left soon after. You heard your grandmother vow to tell them if she ever caught sight of you, and that was that.

You curled yourself up as much as you can when you hear her footsteps nearing the broom closet. She opens the door and squats down to your level, lit candlestick in hand.

“Alright, kid. Get off your arse.”

You winced as you slowly rose to a standing position, your grandmother rising as well. She turned and continued down the hallway. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

-

 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Bellona looks up at you. She’s kneeling in front of you, picking out the glass shards from your feet with a pair of metal tweezers. You’re sitting on a wooden stool that she brought into her room from the kitchen.

“Is your father dead?”

You blink in shock. You can feel your stomach knotting up, tears forming in your eyes once more.

Bellona shrugs. “I’ll take that as a yes. Trust me when I say, you are far better off without that pig in your life.” She pulls out a large shard of glass, from your heel, and you hiss in pain. You can feel anger racking through your body, and you glare at her.

“H-how dare you speak of Papa like that! He was a good man!”

“That’s what you think. I mean, I can’t blame you. He _is_ your father after all… well, was.”

“How can you talk like this when those evil men are far worse than he ever was! They… they k-killed him!”

“You’re right, they did kill him. And he has killed many more than they ever have.”

You freeze in place, but Bellona continues to examine your feet, as though she merely told you what was for dinner that night. After a few moments, she nods in satisfaction at her handiwork, and unfolds some cloth to wrap your feet with.

“You’ve had quite the eventful night. I suggest that you rest up. I could complain about your father for hours, but that would not do you any good. You are only seven, after all…” She murmurs that last part, picking up the mug full of gravel bits and glass. You studied her as she cleaned up. She was actually quite young to be a grandmother; there were only wisps of grey in her rich brown hair, and her wrinkles were merely crows' feet.  _In her forties, most likely..._  The hollowness of her cheekbones and darkness under her eyes was what made her look older. As she turned to leave, you spoke up.

“…How do you know my age?”

Bellona stopped by the bedroom door, sighing. Her back was towards you. “You may be the daughter of a scoundrel, but you are also the daughter of my child.” She left thereafter, leaving you in stunned silence.

 

- 

 

You were awakened abruptly the next morning by the sight of your grandmother by the bedside, holding a large pair of gleaming scissors. This was it. She was going to kill you.

“Oh, quit being dramatic. I’m not going to kill you.” Rolling her eyes at your fearful posture, Bellona set down the scissors along with a glass jar full of murky water, and put her hands on her hips. “Get out of bed. You need a haircut.”

You expected her to trim a few centimeters off, like how your father would when he’d cut your hair. What you did not anticipate was that she would start cutting at the hair at the nape of your neck, chomping the scissors straight across. Bellona worked fast in trimming your hair until all that was left was a short, albeit sloppily-layered style. While she did admit that her intent was not to kill you, the scissors were far too close to your neck for you to protest at all, in case she changed her mind.

When she was finished, she handed you a pair of patched-up trousers and a pageboy cap. “Give me your dress,” she demanded, and you quickly pulled it over your head and handed it to her. She cut it halfway across, separating it into a top and a skirt. She didn’t bother hemming the top half before handing it back to you.

“The Underground’s a dangerous place for women, [f/n]. Always stay near me, and do _not_ cause any trouble.” You looked down at your new attire; you really _did_ look like a boy now.

“Does this mean we’re going somewhere?”

Bellona shook her head. “I am, but you’re not. For you to stay here, you better get started on your chores.”

She kneeled by the bedside, reaching under the bed frame to pull out a bin full of various rags, as well as a sewing needle and thread.

“You know how to sew?” You nodded. “Good. Because that is what you’ll be doing from now on.”

 

-

 

 

During your time staying with your grandmother, you had sewn countless quilts, mats, and cooking mitts… and sold a mere handful. Every Thursday there was a nearby market that you and her would set up shop at, but to no avail. Citizens residing in the bad side of the Underground were prohibited from selling near the staircase to the Above, probably to keep the front of the Underground looking prim and proper for the soldiers that came to recruit. That left you struggling to sell your goods to poor men, starving children, and thugs. In this area, food was more valuable than money. That became apparent to you as you became skin and bones throughout the weeks and months that went by. As you lost weight, you would take in your clothes in order to scrap together more fabric to make goods. Not like that was a benefit; the majority of your stock was made within your first month of living here, and had been carried on for ages. What good was it to make new items when the old weren’t selling at all?

Bellona begged to differ. “It gives you something to do, and it helps keep your mind off of food.”

She did not allow you to go back to school, for obvious reasons. “I can teach you all you need to know to survive in this hellhole. Don’t need some man with a stick up his ass teaching _my_ granddaughter how to think.” She taught you how to sell, to steal, and to fight. All things your father had absolutely been against you doing. “Those are things that only thugs do, and my little dove is better than that.”

You never thought you’d become a thug yourself, stealing from others left and right. You have no idea how your father was able to provide so much food for the two of you way back when. It was always fresh food from the Above, too. You liked to think that you valued your integrity, but did you even have any left at all?

 

Today was another Thursday at the market, three years later. You’re slumped against the brick wall where you’ve set up shop with your grandmother, halfheartedly tinkering with a little doll you had made out of scrap cotton and wool. As tough as she acted, you could tell that Bellona was getting weaker by the day, showing similar signs to what your mother suffered all those years ago. It was one of your motivations that let you swallow your pride and pickpocket when push came to shove. You’ve already lost your parents; you didn't think you could bear to lose grandmother, too.

Your eyes blinked clear from their glazed-over state when you realize a man has stopped by your booth. You straighten your back, offering your assistance to the man. As you looked up at him, you realized that it was a member of the Survey Corps—and a tall one at that.

He studied at you carefully, pity in his gaze. You squared your jaw when you noticed that, not breaking eye contact.

He looked behind you at your grandmother, and you swore you saw recognition flash in his blue eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

After a moment of consideration, the man reached into his satchel, rummaged in it for a moment, and brought an enclosed hand towards you. You brought your hand out as well, open-faced, and he placed three gold coins into your palm.

Your jaw dropped. You stumbled over your words, asking him what items he would like to have—with that amount he could just about afford the entire booth—but he just shook his head and continued down the market path. You watched him until he disappeared into the crowd.

You spun to face your grandmother, discretely showing her the coins in your palms, in case any spying thieves were around. Her eyes were barely open, but when she saw the glimmering gold, her eyes become focused.

“Did that soldier give those to you?” She rasps, and you nod firmly. She nods once, leaning back against the brick wall, a look of content on her face.

“I think it’s nearly enough to get the both of us into the Above!” You whispered, hopefulness prevalent in your tone. Bellona seemed to contemplate this for a minute before she turned to face you.

“[f/n], those coins were given to you. Keep them.”

You stared at her, befuddled. “…But I want to get the both of us out of this place! We can start a new life in the Above!”

Bellona shook her head. “I am too old and weary to go anywhere else but here. Plus, if we spent all of the money on just getting out, how could we afford to start a new life?”

You offered the idea that you could bring all of your quilts with you and sell them in the Above, but Bellona informed you that you are not allowed to bring anything with you into the Above. “Use the money to get up there, find a place to stay, and look for whatever work you can get.” She poked you in the shoulder. “Work that does _not_ involve thievery, please.” You smiled at that, taking her hands in yours. “I promise.”

You looked into her soft brown eyes. “I will look for the best doctor the Above has to offer, and I will send him down here to help you get better.”

Bellona smirked coyly. “He better be a hunk, too!” You rolled your eyes.

Bellona’s expression became serious again. “No. When you get there, forget about me. I want you to have a fresh start, without any strings attached. Do you understand?”

Your eyebrows creased in worry, but after a minute, you nodded. From the many years you'd spent with your grandmother, you knew that trying to change her mind once she’d decided something was near impossible. That didn't mean that you weren't going to try, though. Once you got your footing in the Above, you would come back for her.

“When should I go?”

 

-

 

You left early the next morning. Getting through was easy when you told the guard that he could keep the change from two gold coins. He didn’t even bother asking for identification.

Looking back from where you came, you reminisced when you lived in this area with your father. Bellona never did go into detail of what your father did, despite your constant asking of him; she said that it would do no good. “Look into the Above for your answers. Everything will be right in front of you,” she had told you before you left. As you had opened the door to leave, she called out to you.

 _“No matter what you hear, [f/n], know that those soldiers in the Survey Corps are good people. They are on your side.”_ She had left it at that.

 

You were leaving the place you grew up in with more questions than you had answers. However, deep down, you knew that this decision you made would leave you without regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last part has me cringing, haha. I'll go back an revise as needed; currently trying to roughly type out as many chapters as I can. This has been fantastic writing practice.


	3. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new beginning, just to be taken away from you once more.

**_One month later_ **

 

You adjusted your straw hat, your other arm carrying a basket full of expired bread as you go through the back door of the bakery. As you walked to the compost bin, you looked at the food with remorse. _These loaves would have cost a fortune in the Underground._

This wasn’t the first time you had thought this. A month ago, you wandered throughout the town, fresh out from the Underground. The sky that morning had been a magnificent spectacle of oranges and yellows, and you had stood there, overwhelmed with awe as you watched the sunrise. You’d only been told stories of the Above, and experiencing it made you overrun with emotions. You had no idea that air could be so clean, so exhilarating.

You had stumbled through the town, shaken at how vivid colors were, the sound of children’s laughter, everything was so… _bright._

 

Throughout the first week, you struggled to find work, let alone a place to stay. The townspeople of Shiganshina were not as friendly as you had expected. However, a few nights later, when it was pouring down rain—another sensation you relished, until you became chilled to the bone—you desperately knocked on the door of the nearest building to your left, which ended up being a small, family-owned bakery: _The Breadsmiths._ It had been after hours, and you were surprised when a man opened the door, took one look at your soaked self, and allowed you inside. He and his family lived upstairs from the bakery, and he allowed you to sleep on the floor of his daughter’s bedroom for the night.

 

Weeks later, and after much pleading for work on your part, you were now the designated janitor of the place. While he and his children did all of the baking, you did all of the maintenance, and occasionally helped in the storefront. In turn, you were given food to eat, a few coins each week, and a place to sleep.

 

You were lost in thought as you tore the loaves of bread into smaller chunks, tossing them into the soil of the small garden the family kept. You were sprinkling dry leaves over the soil when you heard the commotion down the street.

Curious, you stood up, wiping your dirt-laden hands onto your skirt. You saw a few civilians jogging past the bakery, heading towards the ruckus. You craned your neck to see if you could figure out what was going on, but it was a little too far away.

Finished with your disposal duty, you quickly reentered the bakery. Your boss was rolling out dough with his older son, both their backs towards you.

“Mr. Rudhale, do you have any idea what’s going on out there?” You put away the wicker basket, walking towards the window so you could watch more civilians quickly going by.

“Haven’t you heard? The Survey Corps are back from their latest mission. It was about time,” he muttered. “Wasting my tax dollars, on that matter.”

 

You continued to gaze outside, tucking your hair behind an ear. It was still quite short—slightly above chin-length—but was growing back relatively fast. During your time here, members of the military occasionally purchased goods from the bakery, and you always made sure to thank them for their services. More often than not, it would take them aback. You became aware of the fact that the townspeople felt strong disdain for the soldiers, but you really didn’t understand why. They were nothing but kind to you.

You heard Mr. Rudhale sigh, fixing a mistake his son made in shaping the dough.

“[f/n], you can take a break if you’d like. Go and see what’s happening over there.”

Thanking him, you removed your work apron and quickly left the store, the bells on the door handle jingling lightly.

The closer you got to the crowd, the clearer the protests from the townsmen were heard.

“Running back here like little rodents, huh? What a damn shame.”

“I can’t believe our militia is just a bunch of _COWARDS!”_

“ _Where is my son?!”_

That last shriek quieted the crowd. A woman stumbled into your vision, standing directly in the path the Survey Corps soldiers were walking down. You struggled to see past the civilians, why were they all so _tall?_

You weaved through the crowd until you were nearly at the front. A dark-haired man approached the woman, after retrieving a blanketed item from one of the wagons. You held your breath as he revealed what was inside to her.

You didn’t have to see what he was holding to know that her son wasn’t returning home. Diverting your eyes as you heard her begin to wail, you scanned the soldiers that were ignoring the commotion. Your eyes stopped on a man on horseback. He looked awfully familiar…

“Tell me. _TELL ME_ that _his life_ meant _SOMETHING!_ ”

You had seen enough. Lowering your head, you turned to weave back through the crowd and return to the bakery. Halfway through, you accidentally shoulder a boy your age, and you look up at him, apologizing quickly as you continue on your way. You didn’t play with any of the kids around here, aside from Mr. Rudhale’s younger daughter, but you were self-conscious about your tomboyish appearance nonetheless. As you jogged the rest of the way to the bakery, the blond-haired boy watched you leave, tilting his head with curiosity.

 

-

 

“Well, [f/n], did you get your fill of the welcome party?”

You sulked into the storefront, wrapping your apron around your waist and tying it once more. “Yeah.”

His son had left, and the rolls were now cooking in the masonry oven. He crossed his arms, looking at your mortified expression. “I’m assuming that it wasn’t pretty.” He removes his bakers hat along with his apron, dusting off his hands on the cloth. “It never is.”

You looked at Mr. Rudhale carefully. “Sir, if I may ask… what exactly is beyond the wall? What are they fighting against?”

Mr. Rudhale opened his mouth, and then shuts it. He’s looking at you funny. _A lot of people seem to do that to me,_ you think bitterly.

“Do you truly not know?”

“I know that we are here because of the Titans… but I was never told what exactly they are. Is it a district?”

Mr. Rudhale was quiet. “We have been safe here for the past one hundred years,” he finally says. “You should be grateful that you have never set eyes on a Titan. And pray that it shall remain this way.” He goes to launder his uniform, telling you to run the storefront. You obliged with a sigh, leaning against the glass display case as your thoughts mull over the Survey Corps. There was something about them that intrigued you… something that the townspeople would not understand.

_Your answers lie in the Above._

_The soldiers are on your side._

Your twelfth birthday was next week. You knew what you were going to do.

 

-

 

 

If it wasn’t the thundering shake of the earth that awoke you, it was the bloodcurdling screams that followed.

Jolting up from your makeshift bed, you could hear Mr. Rudhale’s daughter, Alyson, calling out your name. She was quivering on her bed, wrapped in her blanket, eyes as wide as saucers.

You swung open the window, looking outside. People from across the street were leaning out from their windows as well.

It was the second deafening _boom_ that captured everyone’s attention; it was coming from South of Wall Maria.

You now understood why Mr. Rudhale said that you should be grateful that you never set eyes on a Titan. Why your father kept your family in the Underground.

Running towards Alyson, you frantically reach for her arm and the both of you run downstairs. Mr. Rudhale and his son, Elijah, were already at the storefront.

“A TITAN HAS BREACHED THE WALL!” Elijah shouts. He had a bundle of sticks strapped onto his back, from gathering for the wood stove earlier that morning.

“We need to get to the ferries to enter the next district, past Wall Rose. We are not far, but we must go _now!”_

The four of you bolt out of the bakery and begin running as hard as you can towards the ferry dock. You kept a firm grasp on Alyson’s hand, soon using your free hand to hold onto Elijah’s as well. You look behind you and realize that Mr. Rudhale was trailing behind. Your eyes widen when you see a large creature in the distance, getting closer by the second to where you were.

“T-TITANS HAVE GOTTEN INSIDE!” You shouted, and Mr. Rudhale turned to look. It’s gotten much closer now, its large footsteps far surpassing your sprinting abilities. You realized Mr. Rudhale was slowing down. He made eye contact with you.

“Take them to the ferries, [f/n]!” He called out to you. What was he doing?!

Alyson cried out, reaching to run back to her father. You kept your grip tight on her, dragging her forward with Elijah.

“I love you Alys, _don’t look back_!” That was the last thing you hear from Mr. Rudhale before the three of you force yourselves to face forward, sprinting even harder. The blood pulsing in your ears almost drowned out his screams. Almost.

“We’re almost there,” Elijah shouted. The ferry dock was packed. Hundreds of civilians were screaming, begging to be let on the boat, but the Garrison soldiers were saying that the boats were nearly full. The majority of those on the boats were women and children; all crying out to their families that were forced to stay behind.

You reached a boat that has only two spots left. Elijah let go of you and Alyson’s hand, pushing you both towards it. “I’ll be fine. Get on!”

Alyson let go of your grasp to rush and hug her brother. He held her tight, before pushing her away. “Stay safe for me, Alys.”

You took the moment to grab hold of Alyson’s hand once more, and she didn't protest. The two of you dock the boat, and a Garrison soldier removed the ramp, signaling to start the ferry.

The two of you sat in a corner of the boat, holding onto each other tightly. Alyson has gone into shell shock, and you vigorously rubbed her arms to keep her grounded.

Your home, taken from you once more. You wondered if that boy you saw the other day made it onto a ferry. You buried your face into Alys’s hair and begin to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will be published this weekend. Before then, I am going back on the past three chapters and fixing everything to be past tense. As the story goes along, I may go back and add important scenes to these core chapters. Please let me know what you think, and what you'd like to see in the story! I am happy to add any little details to improve your reading experience.


	4. Internal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One. Day Two.

The sun was hitting down on your already-burnt skin, the salt from your sweat making it sting continuously. Your newly assigned pair of calfskin knee-length boots had yet to break in, the stiff insoles rubbing your toes and ankles raw. _Who thought that making our uniforms out of white cotton was a good idea?_ You were about ready to collapse, but so were all of the other trainees running in your group. And this was just day one.

It felt like eons before you were all finally called to a halt, lining up in formation, albeit somewhat awkwardly. You were in the second row closest to the front. The instructor gave his salute, and you all followed accordingly, your right hand forming a clenched fist over your heart and your left behind your lower back. 

You slowly tuned out the instructor—Shadis, if you heard correctly?—as he went through his spiel, your thoughts trailing back to Alyson. _I wonder if she is doing alright?_

The day that Wall Maria fell, you and her were quartered into an older couple’s home in the Garrison district, much like what the rest of the women and children from the ferries had to do. They were a friendly bunch, but had brought in more children than their house could fit. They had one cramped guest room where over eleven children had taken refuge on the floor. You hadn’t recognized any of the kids; they were closer to Alyson’s age, anyway. It made sense that she knew most of them from school, which you were grateful for; during those nights where she would sit with them for comfort, you were glad to see that she wasn’t alone. 

After staying there for the week, your birthday had come and gone without any acknowledgement. Your way of celebrating was to finally take the next step and enlist into military training. You had gone to the main plaza of the Garrison district where you heard the military was recruiting. You hadn’t been surprised by the swarming amount of children signing up; the fire within their eyes told everything. You had kept your decision a secret until around one month later, when recruits were scheduled to be sent out. Cutting the news to Alyson had been difficult; the majority of her friends had found new homes with family relatives in the district, but with you gone, she would be left all alone. This killed you, but you knew deep down that this had to happen. 

 

_“It’s only for a few years, and I won’t be far from here,” you whispered, running your fingers through the young girl’s ginger locks as she sobbed into your shoulder. You had only known each other for a mere two months, but all you had left of Shiganshina was each other. You heard of no word from her brother, Elijah, so you assumed the worst._

_“P-promise me that you’ll write to me,” Alys said shakily. “I want to know that you are safe. Tell me everything that happens.”_

_After you promised Alys you would send letters, you stayed by her side until she fell asleep. Reaching into the pocket of your dress, you pulled out the little cotton doll you had stitched together in the Underground, and tucked in gently into Aly’s arms._

_When you broke the news to the couple you were quartering with, they shared their plan to adopt Alys into their family and you had nearly broke down with relief. Alys had a chance to start anew._

 

_“YOU THERE!”_ You were rattled out of your reminiscing when you realized that Shadis was standing _right. In. Front of you._ Gulping, you straightened up, adjusting your salute. You murmured out a _Sorry, sir_ and you made the mistake of making eye contact with the man. 

_“Who said you could look at me?”_ He snaps, noticing your flinch with satisfaction. Leaning back, the officer calls the attention of the other recruits. “Let this _child_ be an example to you all, to never get too confident with your higher ranks.” He looked down at you again, sneering. “Ten more laps.”

You open your mouth to protest. Before enlisting, all trainees were required to meet with a nurse for a physical. When you had gotten yours, the nurse had warned you to take it easy at first, as your bones were still quite weak from your time in the Underground. This was a mistake. “Actually, make that _twenty.”_

You had humiliated yourself in front of everyone, without saying a _single word._ You kept your head low as you started on the twenty laps around the area. _Now how were you going to fit in?_ “This is all just a mind game,” you remind yourself, feet thundering on the ground as you tried your best to keep a steady pace. 

As the day had gone, with the sun beginning to set, you were relieved to see that you were not the only trainee that was ordered to do more laps. There was actually a girl that was forced to run until she collapsed, all for eating during that morning’s lecture. She ran for quite a long time, you noticed. 

All of the trainees were joyous when it was finally time to shower up for the day. Massaging your scalp, you winced in pain as the shower water hit your burnt skin. The freezing cold water helped numb the pain, but only made your movements stiffer. Your fingernails were caked with dirt from having to crawl your way under a net earlier, and your knees creaked in protest whenever you moved. You and the other trainees were not provided any soap or shampoo, but were told that you were free to purchase some in the nearby town during your first break day. That wasn’t for another _two weeks._

Groaning, you gave up fighting against the knots in your hair, instead choosing to close your eyes and try your best to enjoy the icy stream of water. Seconds later, it was shut off. “Sixty seconds every night. Use it wisely,” a female officer calls into the communal shower, ignoring everyone’s protests. 

_Three more years._

 

You had thirty minutes to eat dinner before lights were blown out for the night. You furrowed your brows in thought, shaking free from the memories of your father’s brightly-lit study. _Just one of his silly inventions._ You wanted a true fresh start, preparing for a career in the Survey Corps. Your time in the Underground would remain a secret, to one day be forgotten entirely.

You were slumped on a bench in the dining hall, purposely sitting as far away from other trainees as possible. No doubt they all found you foolish, after the event this morning. You studied your metal tray of food. A bread roll, an apple, and some meat stew, from the sights of it… wait a moment… was that a _fly?_

Pursing your chapped lips tightly, you spooned out the dead insect, scraping it onto the side of your tray. After a few moments, you had to flip it onto its back; at first, it looked like it was facing you, its disgusting little eyes staring right into your insecure soul. 

You were about to stand back up and turn in for the night, but then you saw three silhouettes shadow over your tray. Looking up, you were met with startling, emerald green eyes. “Do you mind if we sit here?” He asked, and you nodded hesitantly. Once the three trainees were seated, you took a moment to look at the two sitting side-by-side the green-eyed boy. To his right, a pale-skinned girl with overgrown ebony hair sat, quietly assessing you. And to his left… you nearly choked. It was that blond-haired boy, from the Shiganshina district. He recognized you too, from the looks of his widened blue eyes. 

“Thanks! I couldn’t stand sharing a table with that… _creature_ over there any longer.” The green-eyed boy tilted his head towards the table they migrated from, running his fingers through his brown hair agitatedly. You took a glance, noticing the “creature” the boy was referencing to; a lanky male with sandy hair and a brown undercut, who was currently burning a hole with his glare to your table. “I’m Eren, by the way.”

Returning back to Eren, you reciprocated and introduced yourself.

Whilst chewing on his bread roll, Eren gestured towards what you assumed were his friends. “This is Mikasa—" The girl nodded in greeting. “—and this is Armin.” The blond apparently hadn’t stopped staring at you, because when you met his gaze again, he blushed slightly before waving, breaking eye contact to look at his food.

Eren took a moment to swallow before facing you again. “You look pretty familiar, [f/n]… didn’t you work at a bakery? _The Breadsmith-ers,_ something like that?” Surprised, you nodded. “I did, actually. I lived there with the Rudhale family until—“ you stopped yourself before you could bring up that traumatic day. Eren must have known what you were about to say, because his eyes darkened. His mood changed incredibly fast, you noticed. 

You fiddled with your hair. By now it was below your chin; still too short to tie up into a ponytail, so you settled with just tying the upper part, so it would stay out of your face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that u—“

Eren blinked, and his eyes were a clear emerald once more. _Huh._ “Don’t worry about it. Mikasa and Armin and I are all from Shiganshina… we were all there.” His gaze is mournful now, and you see Mikasa lean towards him in comfort. He doesn’t appear to notice. He smiles halfheartedly. “But hey. _The Breadsmiths_ had some damn good jelly rolls.” 

You smile at that, reaching for your own roll. “I’m glad to hear. I loved those, too.” You steal a glance towards Armin, and you realize that he’s looking at the dead fly on your tray. _Oh God._ Embarrassed, you grab your mug of water, take a quick sip, and discretely place it in front of the fly, cutting off Armin’s view of it. He looks up at you once you’ve done this, amusement twinkling in his eyes. You just know that your face is flaming, but you hoped they couldn’t tell it apart from the sunburn. _I am so stupid._

Mikasa hadn’t spoken up at all, and your attempt to break the ice was to compliment her scarf. It was neatly wrapped around her neck, pretty rugged in appearance too. You inferred that it was once a true red, but had faded to a russet over time. Nonetheless, she pulled it off very well. She murmured a soft _Thank you_ before returning to her quiet state. 

Eren finished his meal and announced that he was turning in for the night, and Mikasa followed him right after. Armin, however, remained seated. 

With his attention on you, you were suddenly conscious of your post-shower hair frizz, your ragged fingernails, and the peeling skin on your forearms. You folded your arms as your attempt to hide the red blotches, but then Armin rolled up one of sleeves, bringing his right arm to you.

“Don’t worry. I got burned too,” he said, smiling slightly. You didn’t know how to respond, so while you frantically tried to think up something to say, you blurted out, “We have the same hairstyle.” That was true. The upper layer of his hair was tied back with an elastic too, although his hair was a bit shorter than yours.

He raised his eyebrows in realization. “You’re right. That’s funny.” The two of you sat in awkward silence for a while, until you heard an officer call out that there was five minutes left before lights out.

You both started to stand up at the same time. “Well, I better get to bed,” you said quickly. You grabbed your food tray and reached for your cup, but Armin beat you to it. “I can put your tray away,” he offered, but you immediately declined. He still followed you to the dish bin, carefully placing the mugs into a crate as you stacked your tray in another. 

You were desperate to get to your quarters; it was only a matter of time before you embarrassed yourself in front of the blond boy again, and you couldn’t afford that. As you turned to leave, he said your name. “[f/n], do you like to read?” You blinked. You hadn’t touched a book in years, but you recalled enjoying books on mechanisms and architecture from when you were younger. “Uh, yeah, I think so.” You mentally facepalmed. _Think_ so?! 

Armin interrupted your mental scolding. “I brought one with me, to read during training. I could bring it to the dining hall tomorrow.” 

Smiling tightly, you quickly agreed, relieved when you saw Armin turn the other way to go to the boys’ quarters, and headed your way to the girls’. _What a day._

 

-

 

You were able to get in a solid four hours of dreamless sleep before you and your assigned roommates— Elise, Krista, and Annie, to be exact—were jostled awake by the officer that burst into your quarters. “ _It’s time for day two, kids!”_ The officer yelled, and you cringed at her volume. The four of you scrambled to get dressed, the sun had yet to rise, so it was pretty dark in the room. Elise went to light a candlestick after she got her pants shimmied on which was about five minutes after the officer woke you all up, and Krista was helping you back out of your leather straps; you had started putting them on backwards. Once you were nearly fully dressed, you sat on the edge of your bed and rubbed your blistered feet, working yourself up to shove on the boots and irritate them once more. You hadn’t even realized that Annie had long since left the room to report for duty. “She was lightning fast!” Elise commented, buttoning up the last of her top. The three of you left together and went outside, where instructor Keith Shadis was impatiently waiting.

“By the end of the week I expect you _all_ to be dressed and ready to go within the first three minutes of waking,” he commanded. “Anyone that takes longer will be punished.” 

The early hours of the morning were dedicated to warm-ups. You were terribly sore from the previous days’ workout, but you started to feel better as your muscles warmed back up. What you were not expecting was that today’s lesson would involve hand-to-hand combat.

“While it’s not useful for taking down a titan, sooner or later you runts are going to get yourselves in a tussle with the second worst thing— _humans._

Today’s lesson will be accompanied by Captain Levi Ackerman.” You were in the last row of recruits, so you couldn’t see who this Levi was. You could barely even see Shadis’ bald head from your position. However, from the chill you could sense run through the crowd, the majority of them must have an idea of who the Captain was. “But first, partner up and show us what you already got,” he ordered the trainees. Everyone scrambled to find a training partner, and you didn’t realize that you hadn’t moved until you find yourself to be the only one without a partner. You snapped out of it, swiveling your head around to look for the trainees you had eaten dinner with last night—perhaps they hadn’t partnered up yet either—but you saw Eren partnered with a boy you didn’t recognize, Mikasa was with Krista, and Armin was with that one boy Eren had disdain for. 

Looking ahead, your eyes widened a fraction when you made eye contact once more with Shadis, and you snapped your eyes away to look at nothing. “Could’ve sworn we had an even number,” he muttered to himself. Approaching you, you expected to be given some sort of punishment for not having a partner; perhaps running more laps. That wasn’t what you were given.

“Alright. Levi, come o’er here.”

You looked directly up at Shadis, shock on your face. You didn’t care that you were making eye contact with him; maybe that would cause him to change his mind and make you run laps, instead of do whatever required this Levi’s presence. You were still staring at the instructor until you heard a clipped cough from behind you. There stood a man of short stature, with a dark undercut and steel grey eyes that almost seemed… bored?

Your shoulders relaxed, and you offered a smile to the man, extending a hand in greeting. Looks like you weren’t the last partnerless trainee after all! 

The man didn’t reciprocate your handshake, choosing to glare at you instead. You lowered your arm in confusion.

“Captain, would you mind partnering up with this runt for the lesson?” _…Oh. Dear._

The man, who you now realized was _the Captain, for crying out loud_ merely grunted in confirmation, spinning on his heel to go to an open area, not even bothering to check if you were following. You admit that you envisioned someone with different characteristics to be the Captain, but this man still radiated authority and brought a chill to your spine.

Following him into the clearing, he abruptly stopped and faced you, standing with his legs slightly apart. You decided to mimic the pose, also choosing to bring your arms up towards your face. It had been a few months since the last time you had to fight. More often than not, you played the role of defense in them, often having to dodge drunken men and pickpockets during the late hours in the Underground. You had remained unscathed… in most cases.

“Come on, I don’t have all day,” Levi snapped. Blinking, you realized that you had to be the role of offense in this exercise. You were expecting him to start this whole time.

_Alright, focus._ You had been in the role of offense a handful of times; days where you were so desperate for food that you ferociously attacked whoever had what you needed for survival. One time, when you were walking back to your grandmother’s, a pickpocket had snagged your pouch of coins off your belt, snapping its cord in the process. It had taken you _weeks_ to scrape together that money, and you were going to give it to your grandmother. You recall bolting after the man, red clouding your vision, and…

Without a moment’s hesitation, you sprinted at Levi, not noticing the subtle surprise in his expression. You had gone from a nervous little recruit, to a vicious being within moments. 

You threw an arm back as though you were about to punch him, but then ducked and locked your arms around his left knee, jerking it towards you. It threw him off balance for a moment, but he quickly regained composure, turning his body to elbow you hard on your upper back, causing you to keel forward. You didn’t fall to the ground without making sure he came down with you. You still had a grip on his left leg, and you leaned your weight to the right so you would fall on him. You took hold of his right arm, twisting it before he swept his legs free and kneed you again in the chest, your grasp loosening from the impact. Now released, Levi immediately rolled over you, his arm on your neck and a knee on your stomach pinning you to the ground. You felt something crack in your left arm, and you let out a gasp of pain.

“Your moves are sloppy. Erratic. A disgusting mess,” He sneered, bringing his face closer to yours, an intimidation tactic. Without thinking, you grab his forearm, loosening its hold just enough for you to slam your forehead against his… nose. _Shit._ Levi pushed away from you, cursing as his nose began to bleed. “You fucking _brat!”_ You had been aiming for his forehead, a quick stun. You hadn’t taken into account the curvature required to reach that spot successfully… and now you were _dead._

_“ENOUGH!”_ Keith Shadis boomed, walking over to the scene you had caused. Levi was already leaving, having picked up his cravat from the ground—it had slipped free from his neck during the fight—and was dusting it off to his best ability before covering his nose with it. Looking around, it appeared that the other trainees had stopped, wide-eyed, having watched your little brawl with the Captain.

“When I said practice hand-to-hand combat, I was referring to _proper_ technique, _not_ a shitfest!” You noticed that a few droplets of Levi’s blood had splattered on your collar; that would be a bitch to clean out. “You’re disqualified from the rest of today’s lesson, and are now assigned to stall duty.” You were still slumped on the ground, heaving. “Get _UP_!” He shouted. You propped yourself off from the dirt with your right arm, your chest aching in more ways than one. Your left arm was a whole other situation.

“Sir,” you gasped. “I think— I think he broke my arm.”

“And with good reason.” Shadis rubbed his cranium in annoyance. “Just—go to the infirmary, and when you’re done, clean up the horse shit.” He faced the other trainees. “Quit standing around! Get to it!” Armin was looking over to you worriedly, and you gritted your teeth in a smile, trying to ease his concern, but it only made it worse. You really weren’t in the mood right now.

As you limped away towards the infirmary, Shadis heaved a sigh. “I swear to God,” Shadis muttered, making his rounds to the trainees once more. “This is the division that will finally kill me.” 

 

 

-

 

You passed Levi in the hallway on your way to the infirmary, promptly ignoring his death glare as he returned back to the training session, the bleeding having stopped. While you felt bad, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel any guilt over the fight; in the Underground, technique didn’t matter. As long as you kept your neck protected and your heart beating, anything could happen. 

_This isn’t the Underground. Forget that chapter of your life._

The more you attempted to stay invisible in the Training Corps, the more attention you seemed to draw to yourself. You didn’t know what to do; all you had to go by was your grandmother’s advice of “finding your answers in the Above” and “trusting the Survey Corps,” and recently the motivation to protect Alyson, to make sure that she receives the childhood you never had. 

_Look to the Above…_

 

-

 

Shoveling up horse manure while wearing an arm sling is a lot harder than it looks. Actually, it is _pretty damn impossible._ Equipping a shovel single-handedly was decidedly too difficult, so you resorted to using an old farmer’s glove to pick up the mounds of shit and throw them into the designated bucket.

“Need a hand?” You startled, taking a step back and turning to see who had spoken.

It’s the boy that Eren dislikes. What’s his name again? Did you ever actually hear it? 

The male grimaced, inhaling sharply. “You may not want to step there.” You give a double take at your boot, groaning when you realize you’ve stepped into the mess.

“I do. Thanks…?” “The name’s Jean. Don’t worry about it, I was assigned stable duty yesterday.” He attempted to crack his knuckles, but to no avail. “I consider myself a professional at this point.”

You chuckled, watching with gratefulness as Jean hauled some manure with the shovel, dumping it into the bin. 

“Do you think you can carry a bucket of water here? We’ll have to scrub the floor.” You nod and duck out from the stable, walking the short distance to the nearest faucet, empty bucket in hand. The sun was beginning to set, hues of warm pinks and oranges melting together. Once the bucket was filled, you shut off the faucet and heaved it back to the stable.

“I can go ahead and finish up for you, so you don’t miss dinner,” Jean offered, and you hastily declined. On the contrary, you hadn’t eaten much yesterday, and your grumbling stomach gave away your true state of hunger. Jean chuckled at that, and told you to go. “I had a big lunch,” he reasoned, and you nodded, even with your knowledge that trainees weren’t given a lunch break… 

You thanked Jean graciously before stopping at the faucet again, quickly rinsing off your boots. They were finally breaking in, to your relief. 

You made it to the showers right before the sixty seconds started, and you were proud to say that you were getting the hang of cleaning yourself efficiently. 

 

Once you entered the dining hall, you searched for where Armin, Eren and Mikasa would be sitting, but then your vision was blocked by a tall figure.

“Well hey there!” The woman greeted, grinning down at you. She had wild auburn hair, tied up high in a ponytail; her yellow button-up was crinkled, and she sported a pair of narrow-frame eyeglasses. _An eccentric one,_ you inferred.

“I heard all about your stunt today.” Your stomach dropped. “Is it true that you busted open Levi’s nose?” Reluctantly, you nodded. The woman looked at you for a moment, before bursting out with laughter. “I like you already! Here, come sit with me!” 

She led you to a table at the very back of the dining hall. The few people seated there appeared to be older than any of the trainees; a man with messy, dirty blond hair leaning his back against his wall seat; a short woman with mid-length red hair and sparkling hazel eyes; there were three other men there as well, but you stopped dead short when you realized that Levi was seated at the table as well. Swallowing, you stepped backwards, estimating how fast you could sprint out of the dining hall without being caught, but the eccentric woman kept a firm grasp on your working arm. She slid into her spot next to the dirty blond, and patted the space next to her. “Erwin was planning on coming along with us to check in on the fresh meat, but work caught up to him back at headquarters.” Levi made an offhand comment about how he should be getting back to work himself, but the woman scoffed. “Oh, no you don’t.” She turned towards you once you hesitantly seated yourself. “I’m Hange, the Survey Corps’ greatest Titan researcher, _and_ squadron leader.” She pointed to the rest of the people around the table. “This fella here is Mike Zacharias, who’s also a squad leader—“ The dirty blond-haired man gives you a wink and a wave. “—this lovely lady is Petra Ral, and we also have Oluo, Erd, and Gunther along for the ride.” Hange leaned forward on her elbows, grinning. “Everyone, this is [f/n]. Our hero of the day.” She chortled at Levi’s glare, and you politely ignored him as you greeted the others. 

The group had resumed their casual discussions, and you realized that Levi was scrutinizing you. Hange’s compliment to you gave you a boost of confidence, so you stared Levi down. What’s the worst he could do to you during dinner? He fractured your _arm,_ for crying out loud.

“You worked at that bakery.” He said suddenly. “In Shiganshina.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I did.” Where was he going with this?

Levi took a moment to sip from his cup, grasping it from the edges, for some reason avoiding using its designated handle. “Went there once. Ordered a biscuit.”

“Oh really?”

“Tasted like ass.”

You took a bite of your stew. No flies today, luckily. “Well, if it comforts you, I wasn’t allowed to handle the cooking. I was on permanent cleaning duty.”

“Figured. That looked like shit, too.”

“Getting chummy over here, are we?” Hange intervenes, resting her chin on her palm. “You should be nice, Levi. Last time I checked, _you_ broke [f/n]’s arm.” Levi clicked his tongue, narrowing his eyes, still looking at you.

“Not my fault her bones are weak. That’s what happens when you’re raised in the Underground.” 

You dropped your spoon, and it clanked loudly against your food tray. The chatter at the table had grown quiet. “…What?”

Levi continued to study you. “Nobody around here fights like that, trainee. I know a thug when I see one.” 

Hange began to scold Levi’s brash attitude, but you had completely tuned out. _So that’s how they’ll see you. As a thug. A rat from the Underground._

You bolted from your seat, excusing yourself for the night. As you put away your tray, you spotted where Eren, Mikasa and Armin were seated. Eren and Mikasa were looking at you worriedly, and Armin didn’t look up. He was busy looking down at… his book. _The book. Crap, you had forgotten._ You really didn’t want to talk to them right now, so with one last look towards Armin, you spun on your heel and ran to your quarters, where your nightmares would begin in the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter yet, and the most fun to write. What's not so fun? The sunburns I got from rowing today. I wonder if the soldiers of the Survey Corps had access to aloe vera?
> 
> I look forward to writing Reader with more depth. She's currently pretty meek, but I have to remind myself that she is currently only twelve with little knowledge of her overall environment. I'm basing her character around the INFP personality type. Thank you so much for the Kudos, and expect Chapter 5 to release soon!


	5. Repose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically like a bowl of leftover mashed potatoes, where some bites are very flavorful and then the others are kinda cold and dry. It is nearly 2 am.

_**11 June 1846** _

 

_**Dear Alys,** _

_**I hope Mr. and Mrs. Clarke are treating you well. Are there children still being quartered with you? Have you been eating enough?** _

_**The Training Corps hasn’t been too bad. The instructor loves to get in your face and yell, but he’s only doing it to make us stronger and keep us on our toes. The other trainees have been very kind to me. There is a girl, Mikasa, who is very skilled at our training practices. I’ve been her sparring partner a few times and I have certainly learned a lot from her. Then there is Eren, who is pretty hard-headed but brings the most energy and passion into training that I haven’t seen from anyone else. I admire that.** _

_**I remember how much you love to garden. There’s a boy named Armin who has an enormous book full of different plants and botanicals, and breathtaking flowers I have** **never seen that thrive beyond the walls. I think you two would get along very well.** _

_**I will see you next week when we are free to visit Stohess.** _

 

_“[F/n].”_

Someone was prodding you in the shoulder, but you refused to respond. It had taken you forever to fall asleep, let alone find a sleeping position that didn’t make your left arm throb in pain. You had settled with laying on your back, your left forearm tenderly over your stomach and your right flopped over your face, eyes covered by the crook of your elbow.

Your breath began evening out again as you dozed off, but you were met with a hard pinch to your arm. Yelping, your eyes finally snapped open, recoiling your arm to rest with your left. Annie was standing at your bedside, arms crossed.

“When I said wake her, I didn’t mean _hurt_ her in the process!” You heard Krista scold Annie, her head leaning over from the bunk above yours. Annie remained silent as she turned on her heel and left the room, already having finished dressing, as per usual. Krista smiled apologetically. “I know you were getting some much-needed rest, but today is our break day, and we don’t get another until next month.” She climbed down the bunk ladder, wooden hair comb in hand. “The nearest town is pretty far from here, so we’ve decided to get a head start and leave before the others.” She offered her free hand to you. “Would you like to come with?”

You accepted the offer, gratefully taking her hand and hoisting yourself out of bed. The past two weeks had sped by, with everyone falling into a steady routine. You had returned to sitting with Armin, Eren and Mikasa during dinners, promptly staying away from Captain Levi and trying your hardest not to stand out during practices. Your sparring skills have become more formalized and analytical, your goal being to dodge as many physical hits as possible while your fractured arm healed up. The older members of the Survey Corps had long since left the training grounds, having had their fill of assessing the trainees, but Hange had gone out of her way to apologize to you the morning after Levi had insulted you. You had assured her that it wasn’t her fault whatsoever, but she relented, even offering for you to visit Headquarters sometime and check out her recent findings on the Titan species. You appreciated that, and were glad to consider her as a friend.

Buttoning up your white shirt, you winced when you realized that the right underarm seam of the top had apparently ripped. “You need to find some clothes while we’re at the market,” Krista said, nodding her head towards your uniform. It was the only set of clothes you owned. The ragged dress you had arrived in had long since become washing rags to use when Captain Levi would order the trainees to scrub their rooms spotless. You didn’t mind that you had to wash your uniform every night because of this, but it was wearing through very quickly.

Krista was weaving her thin, pale blonde hair into a side braid. She was wearing a baby blue blouse, with short cuffed sleeves that billowed out delicately. Silk was rare to come by, and you were surprised that she owned such a luxury. _It must have cost a fortune._ Nonetheless, you complimented her on it; she was already a beautiful girl, and the blouse brought out the blue in her eyes.

“Thank you, [F/n].” Krista smiled warmly, turning to help Elise comb her long, raven black locks while the latter adjusted her cloak. It was a chilly morning. “I had gotten it in the Stohess district, actually. We should visit the shop today, and maybe you’ll find something there for yourself.” You smiled at that, and the three of you hastily finished dressing.

It appeared that some of the other trainees had the same idea as your roommates, because the dining hall was bustling with people, all eager to escape the dry desert of the training grounds. You spotted Eren and Armin in the midst, and squeezed your way through to meet them.

“Are you excited, [F/n]?” Eren whispered, beaming. You nodded giddily, bumping your fist with his extended towards you. Turning to Armin, you asked if he was going to be on the lookout for new books to read. The two of you had torn through his botanical encyclopedia, having finished it a few days ago, and you were itching to read up on what other things lied beyond the walls. He nodded. “I heard there is a vendor that sells used books. It’s the first place I plan to visit.” He asked you what your plan was, and you informed him and Eren that you were going to be with Elise and Krista, with Annie hopefully tagging along. “Girl stuff, huh,” Eren rolled his eyes dramatically, and you laughed. “Hey, Mikasa, why don’t you go with them today? Get off my back for a bit,” He muttered that last part, and you felt bad for Mikasa. She obviously cared for him a lot, but he only ever seemed annoyed by it. You offered a smile to the girl, an open invitation for her to join. After brief hesitation, she quietly agreed to come with you, tugging at the sleeve of her grey sweater. You beckoned her to follow you, and rejoined where Krista and Elise were standing.

The group of trainees was escorted outside by a tired-looking Shadis. Everyone was ready to go hours before the allotted time, and you were expecting Shadis to throw a fit about that. He was probably looking forward to getting rid of the trainees for the day, as soon as possible.

Outside was a tall man in a Survey Corps uniform, his dark green cloak hooded over his face. Once you all were lined up, he began to speak.

“I apologize for being late in meeting you all,” He began, removing his hood. All you could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, eyes wide. The man assessed the group, taking no apparent notice to your existence. “I am Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps. I have heard great things about you all from Instructor Shadis—" You heard someone cough in the crowd, stifling a scoff. “—and look forward to assessing your progress in the upcoming week. For now, however, I expect that you all are eager for some fresh air.” His eyes connected with yours. His eyes rested on you for just a moment, before looking away to the other trainees. 

Armin nudged you with his elbow, head tilted in question. _You alright?_ He mouthed. You nodded slowly.

Once finished with his speech, Erwin dismissed everyone to begin the trek to Trost. You, however, remained where you stood, waiting for the crowd to thin out. “You go ahead and start, I’ll catch up to you,” you told Armin, and he nodded in confirmation before meeting back up with Eren and Mikasa.

Facing forward, you found Erwin looking down at you again as you approached him. You spoke up first. “Sir—Commander—I… just wanted to offer my thanks.” Not sure if it was appropriate for a trainee to do, you nonetheless offered out a hand. To your surprise, he responded with his own, shaking firmly. “Your kind gesture is what brought me to the Above. I look forward to being of service when I am in the Survey Corps.”

Erwin smiled at that. “My father was good friends with Miss Bellona, your grandmother. He always said that he felt as though he were in debt to her, so it was the least I could do.” He looked at you carefully. “How is Bellona, by chance?”

You furrowed your brow with worry. “She was alright before I left. I haven’t been in contact with her for months… I have been saving up to visit her again, before… the breach.”

Erwin bowed his head. “The entrance to the Underground has been covered by rubble from the breach. Some take it as an act of God—the civilians residing there are protected from the Titans.” “…But that means trading as halted as well,” you realized. Erwin hummed in confirmation. “The Military Police and Survey Corps are working to clear the entrance and patch Wall Maria. I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about.” He straightened, looking pointedly at the trainees in the distance. “I suggest that you go and enjoy yourself today. There will not be another release for the next four weeks.” Thanking the Commander, you firmly saluted and started jogging away. Erwin watched you leave, his mind troubled. His father had often referred to your grandmother during his years of study, many years ago. He always stated to Erwin that there was something missing, a vital puzzle piece in his work that he could not decipher… Something that the [L/n] family had that he could not. Erwin had given you those gold coins as a symbol of gratitude to your family, but for you to have made the journey all the way to the Above, and to train to join the military, that had to mean something. Perhaps he would be able to find answers from you. Perhaps he would be able to finish his father’s theory, in his honor…

 

“Hey [F/n], what was that back there?” Eren asked, walking backwards to look at you. The group of trainees had yet to learn how to ride horseback as a whole, but the few that came from villages that were already taught had that as an advantage, and they were galloping far ahead from the majority’s walking group. Jean was one of those ahead; you could hear is whoops all the way back to where you were. You were walking with Krista and Elise to your right, and Armin and Mikasa to your left. Eren had a ton of energy, apparently, and kept speeding to the front of the group before dwindling back to talk to his friends, a needless dance.

“I recognized the Commander from a previous encounter. He knows my family,” You said. Krista spoke up at that. “The Commander is a kind man. He visited my village often. It was for politics, but he was always friendly to me as a child.” You were glad to hear that. You didn’t anticipate the Commander of the Survey Corps to be a harsh man, but it was good to have that thought confirmed after your idea of the Captain to be far from reality. You cringed inwardly at the thought of Captain Levi. Today was your day to take a break, so you shoved down your humiliation at his past remarks.

You looked at Armin, pointing a finger at him. “Quickly; what is the benefit of English Marigold for injuries?” He blinked, before grinning. “They help reduce the inflammation of wounds and work well as an antiseptic.” You hummed, straightening your posture and putting your arms behind your back, mimicking the way your old professor Mr. Dolowin walked. “ _Aaaaand_ what about Valerian Root?”

“Often used for tea, the root of the Valerian flower is known to help improve the quality of slumber…” You continued to quiz your friend for a while, taking turns with him to challenge your memories of his botanical encyclopedia. This instantly bored Eren, so he weaved throughout the group, chattering with various trainees throughout the trip.

It took around an hour to get to the village of Trost, but since you all had left early the shops were only just opening, the sun glowing across the horizon. You split away from Armin and Eren, grouping together with Mikasa, Krista and Elise. You couldn’t spot Annie anywhere, but you think you saw her on horseback on the journey. She was most likely within the village already.

You explained to the girls that you were intending to visit Alys sometime in the day, and Elise waved a hand. “She’s not going anywhere. You can see her in the afternoon. We’re shopping first.”

-

 

The chill in the morning air was still prevalent as the four of you meandered around, browsing the outdoor vendors of the market. From hand-blown glass baubles to goat cheeses to blocks of colorful soap, any item you could possibly think of was available to purchase. You were tempted by the colorful beaded necklaces and large, intricate magnifying glasses that were laid out on sheepskins and leather, but you had a humble amount of silver and copper coins in your possession. What you really needed was clothes.

 

Your jaw dropped when Krista presented the clothing shoppe she mentioned earlier. _Adelina’s Clothing & Tailoring Services._ In the exterior of the brick building, a large glass case displayed intricate, hand-beaded gowns and corsets made of fine leather.

“Uh… these are beautiful pieces, but I doubt I can afford any of these.” Despite your protests, Krista and Elise practically hauled you into the store, Mikasa awkwardly following behind. “Doesn’t matter. You should enjoy yourself for once!”

The interior was rather small, but the space was very tidy and orderly. A bell jingled when you entered the store, and you could hear a woman to the left call out a greeting, standing up from a table scattered with various threads and needles.

“Ah, welcome! Krista, it’s good to see you again. Tell me, how are you faring?” The older woman fretted. As the two of them talked, you took time to admire the place, trailing your hand through the hangers of various attire. Your hand paused on one item specifically: a simple, floor-length linen dress with a conservative scoop neck and polished wooden buttons.

“A simple design, but very elegant,” The older woman—Adelina, you supposed—commented, walking up to you with a smile. “I sewed and dyed that garment myself. I suggest you try it on.”

In the back corner of the shoppe there was a tall, opaque screen that you were able to change behind, with the help of Krista and Elise. Krista hastily took your ripped button-up shirt and brought it to Adelina, inquiring if she could mend it. She graciously accepted, and swept her skirts and hurried to her working desk.

The dress was loose in the waist, but Adelina said she could easily take it in a bit. It was the softest garment you had ever felt, its long sleeves light enough to not soak up the summer heat. The buttons trailed past your belly button, but were firmly enclosed and maintained an air of regal modesty. From the sounds of your friends excitedly complimenting the dress, you felt confident that this was the one for you.

Adelina paused her stitching, and hoisted herself out of her chair and to the back where there was a closet. You thought she was rummaging for supplies, but you were taken aback when she brought out a long, rectangular object that… _reflected_ your exact image.

“What… is this?” You breathed, taking in your appearance in wonder. You had never seen yourself like this before, only ever seeing yourself in polished spoons and only faintly in glass windows. Adelina propped the object to lean against the wall, and you viewed yourself in a new light. Your skin was becoming tan from the many hours of training in the sun, your cheeks and nose still holding onto pink sunburn. Your hair was a bit lighter from the sun rays as well, and while still a bit frizzy, the length was helping keep it down, resting just above your shoulders. The faded cerulean color of the dress actually brought out hints of blue in your curious eyes, and you noticed that you had faint freckles on your nose. “How am I… so clear?”

Adelina was already grabbing ahold of the object once more, heaving it back into the closet. “Amazing, isn’t it? I received it as a gift from an old friend. He told me that they are handmade in a village far into the Yalkell district.” You nodded in wonder, along with Elise and Krista. Looking behind you, near the entrance of the shoppe, you were startled to find that Annie was there, talking to Mikasa.

Feeling your gaze, Annie turned her head towards you. Her eyes were level and disinterested-looking, but that was the norm with her. “Just wanted to see how my roommates were doing. Nice dress.” Thanking her, you couldn’t help but frown slightly. Since when did Annie want to look out for you and your roommates? And… how did she know where you were in this large village?

Adelina shifted about, her unsettlement apparent, and walked up to you, smiling once more. You asked her how much the dress would be, and she waved her hands about, shaking her head. “No, no. Take it.” You protested instantly, but she firmly put her hands on her hips. “My daughter served in the Survey Corps. Gave her life for their cause. The least I can do is support other women that are serving, like she did.” She ignored your attempts to give her your silver coins, even giving you a pair of lightweight trousers and a cream tunic, along with your mended uniform button-up. She even gave Mikasa a garment, a cozy knit shawl that matched the grey in her eyes, with subtle red beading details. Before leaving, the four of you slyly put a few silver coins on Adelina’s work table, and headed out and back into the market.

Annie had disappeared once more, but you expected that. You ended up purchasing two pairs of used shoes from a vendor: ankle-length lace-up boots that were slightly too big and some woven leather flats, which you stuffed into your cotton bag Adelina had provided.

You were on the lookout for Armin and Eren when you spotted Jean bartering with an annoyed-looking woman over some leather belts. You snuck up behind him, jabbing his sides with your pointer fingers. You burst out laughing at his shriek. “Not funny, [F/n],” Jean pouted, but then began laughing with you. You noticed that you could feel his ribs when you poked him, but he spoke up, distracting you from that thought. “A change of clothes, I see. You look like a true woman for once.” Jean recoiled when you playfully threatened to jab him again. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. By chance, have you seen Armin or Eren around? I haven’t seen them at all once we got here.” Jean’s face soured at the mention of Eren. “I have not, but there’s a vendor down the path selling books that Armin is probably glued to. I’ll go with you,” Jean casually slung his arm around your shoulders, leading you down the road. You made sure to wave to Krista, Elise and Mikasa, letting them know that you’d catch back up with them later.

When you found Armin, he was right where Jean predicted. He was sifting through a large, dusty book, a stack of them by his side. There was a brunet-haired boy next to him, but it wasn’t Eren. When the boy looked up, he smiled cheerily, his freckled face lighting up. “Hey Jean! Who’s this young lady?”

Jean removed his arm from you, using it to scratch his neck. “This is [F/n]. [F/n], this is my roommate, Marco.” You greeted the boy before returning your attention to Armin.

“What books have you found?” You asked, leaning on your hands on the vendor’s table.The elderly man running the booth huffed at you, scolding you for leaning on the table. “It’s old. It could break,” he said, puffing on his wooden pipe. Apologizing, you resorted to crossing your arms and leaning next to Armin, viewing what he was looking at.

“This one appears to be on architecture… the blueprints are fascinating to look at.” Armin finally tore his gaze from the book, eyes widening when he noticed your attire. “Y-you changed.”

You grinned sheepishly, giving a dramatic curtsy to the boy. “Krista took me to a seamstress. She was incredibly kind to us, and her work is beautiful.” Armin was still staring, and you were beginning to feel self-conscious again. What was up with him?

“Uh… y-yeah, she did a good job,” he sputtered, looking down at the books frantically. “Here, come see the other books I’ve picked out.” You complied, but then you remembered something. _Alys._ The Clarke home was a ten minute walk from here, and you wanted to spend a few hours with her before sundown. You asked Armin if he wanted to come along and meet her, and he accepted. Jean was busy talking to Marco, so you didn’t bother saying goodbye. You continued to chat with Armin on the walk there. Apparently Eren had gone off with two other trainees he made friends with, and Armin chose to remain at the book vendor.

 

“Here it is,” you breathed, looking at the narrow house. It looked so much smaller coming back to it, even though you had been residing there just over a month before. Knocking firmly on the door, your eyebrows shot up when you saw who answered the door.

“Hello, [F/n],” Elijah said evenly. His hair had gotten longer, and his eyes were more… intense. It took you a minute to formulate words.

“Elijah, I’m glad to see that you made it to Garrison. When did you arrive?” Elijah merely shook his head, lips pursed. “A week ago. Are you here to see Alys? She’s been anticipating your arrival.” Nodding, you entered the house with Armin as Elijah stepped back to make room. “Mr. Clarke is at work, and Mrs. Clarke is visiting a relative. They’ll be back at sundown.” You informed him that you will have already departed at that time, and he agreed to let them know you offered your greetings. He firmly shook hands with Armin, who was looking at him strangely. You’ve never seen Armin look at anyone with that expression before. Elijah gestured for the two of you to sit while he fetched Alyson from upstairs.

The moment you saw Alys descend down the stairs, you rushed over to her, hugging her tight. The young girl was not as eager to hug, but you felt her squeeze back slightly. Frowning, you pulled back, inspecting her face. “Are you feeling alright?”

Alys nodded slowly, but her face was pink. You brought a hand to her forehead, and gasped when you felt how hot it was to the touch.

“She has a mild fever, from one of the Shiganshina kids that was staying with the Clarkes. She has been on bedrest, but is getting better at a fast rate.” Elijah offered to serve you and Armin some tea, but you both politely declined.

Alys was peering up at Armin curiously. “[F/n] told me that you have a big book of plants and flowers,” she rasped. You winced at the sound. Whatever she had, it was worse than a “mild” fever.

Armin smiled down at her. “I do. I could bring it on our next visit, let you borrow it.” Alys’s face lit up with joy. “Were there sunflowers in it?”

As Armin and Alys shared what their favorite plants were, you were watching Elijah as he poured himself and Alys some tea in the kitchen, mixing some honey into the metal cups. You got up from the table, walking over to him. “How were you able to escape from Shigansina?” You asked, taking in Elijah’s dark eye bags and sallow skin. He sighed, having wanted to not recount those nightmarish days.

“I was able to take cover in a neighbor’s basement. A lot of civilians had the same idea, and it was crammed full. Any food or water that was in storage was consumed the first day, and for the rest of the week, all we could do was stay silent in that dark room, listening to those who didn’t make it to shelter.” He sighed shakily, running his hand through his hair, eyes focused on the aluminum cups. “Finally some members of the Military Police were able to get us out to safety before any Titans could reach us.” You lowered your head in sorrow.

“Thank you, Elijah, for getting me and Alys to the ferry in time,” you murmured, turning to look back at Alys, who was hanging on to every word Armin was saying. “We wouldn’t be here if you did otherwise.”

Elijah didn’t respond to that, instead choosing to take one of the cups to Alys, which she gulped down instantly. You sat back down with Armin, telling Alys stories of your time so far in the training corps.

“Did you know that [F/n] had posed a dead fly on her food tray?” Your jaw dropped. “ _You remember that?!”_ Armin laughed. “Of course, it wasn’t that long ago. I thought it was funny.” You put your face in your hands, embarrassed. “It was in my soup, alright? I didn’t want to just flick it on the ground. That would have been disrespectful.” “To who, the fly?” “ _No,_ to whatever poor trainee would be forced to clean the dining hall by the Captain!”

Armin’s laughter died out, looking at you with concern. “Has he said anything else to you?” Shaking your head, you pinched the bridge of your nose. You had confided in Armin over that night, making him one of the only people to know that you came from the Underground. None of your other friends knew that, aside from Hange, but she hadn’t been around since that one weekend. Looking outside, you noticed that the sun was beginning to set. “I think it’s time we head back. Alys, I’m glad to have visited with you today. I hope you feel better soon.” As you hugged her goodbye, she whispered to you. “I like him,” She said, beaming. Armin heard that, and smiled sheepishly at her. “Please visit again soon!” She waved crazily, before bursting into a coughing fit.

“I’ll take care of her from here,” Elijah said, picking up Alys. He looked at you carefully. “Take care, [F/n].”

As you and Armin departed, you could sense that weird vibe coming off of him again. “Is everything alright, Armin?” You asked, and he nodded a bit to quickly. It was quiet for a minute before he spoke up.

“You are friends with Elijah from your time at _The Breadsmiths,_ ” Armin said, more of a statement than a question.

“Well, I actually never really talked to him when I worked there. Sometimes I would work storefront with him, though. He’s more of an acquaintance.” You looked up at Armin, and he was looking into the distance straight ahead. You could practically hear the cogs in his head turning as he determined what to say next. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t want to come across as rude, especially since this was the first time I have ever spoken to him, but… did you notice how odd he was acting?” You pursed your lips in thought.

“I did. However, he was telling me a bit of his time in Shigansina, trapped in a neighbor’s basement with other villagers as they waited for the Military Police to get them out. I think he’s shaken up by that, still.” Armin nodded at that, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “I do worry for Alys, though. I hope Elijah will be there for her… no, I believe he will.” You left it at that, and Armin didn’t mention anything else about it.

 

-

 

Everyone was exhausted from the break day. Jean had offered to take you on horseback, but you wanted to be with your walking friends to talk about the day’s activities. He ended up racing home with Marco, both surprisingly skilled at riding the stallions. You looked forward to learning how to do that.

Eren had gotten heaps of food, with two other trainees named Sasha and Connie. He was carrying a sack of fruits, nuts, and dried jerky, and the three of them had stuffed all of their pockets full of snacks as well. When you commented on this, Eren told you that all of the food was actually Sasha’s, and she just needed extra bodies to haul it all to the camp.

Armin had ended up buying three old books, and you flipped through one of the smaller ones as you walked. Opening to the first page, you realized something.

“Hey, Armin, that vendor you got these from, does he make them himself?” He shook his head. “No, they were all used copies.”

“…Were there any stores that were selling new books?” He shook his head.

“Huh.. Maybe they’re all made in the Mitras district…” Looking back down at the book, you ran your finger over the inside, where a first page used to be. It had been torn out. When you checked the two other books, you found that they did not have first pages, either.

 

 

-

 

It was very late in the evening, but you couldn’t get yourself to fall asleep. You could hear Krista snoring faintly above you, the infrastructure of the bunk creaking as she adjusted sleeping positions. You laid there for a bit, enjoying the cool air sweeping through the slightly opened window, moonlight giving you just enough light to make out the dust particles floating in the air. Angling your head to your right, you could see Annie, sleeping with her back facing you. Above her bunk, you could see one of Elise’s arms dangling over the edge. She was laying on her stomach, far away into dreamland.

Rubbing your left arm tenderly, you rubbed your upper teeth with your tongue, staring at your little wooden ceiling above. Your gums were awfully dry… perhaps a glass of water would help you get some rest.

You didn’t bother putting on any more clothes, remaining in your tank top and mid-length shorts, but chose to wrap yourself in your blanket as your toes touched the cool floor, and you tiptoed out of the room and towards the dining hall.

You were relieved to find that the large barrel of water by the entrance was still relatively full, but it quickly dissipated when you realized that you didn’t have a cup, and the kitchen was already closed for the night. _Crap._ Alright. You could pull the cork, and then place your hands under the stream immediately after. But then how would you put the cork back in? You _could_ pull it out with your teeth… or just drink directly from the flow of water and be able to plug the barrel instantly afterwards. You decided to do the latter, and kneeled under the barrel. _Three… two… one…_

“What the hell are you doing?”

You choked on the water, scrambling to shove the cork back into the barrel, but not before your nostrils got flooded with the damn liquid. You fell back onto your butt, wheezing. Whoever had startled you merely walked to your side with a sigh, and offered you a white cloth. You quickly took it, dabbing it on your face and then on your blanket, trying to regain your breath. “Thanks,” you coughed out. You pushed yourself off the floor, wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself before facing whoever had helped you. And when you did, you wished that you had stayed in bed.

Captain Levi was looking at you evenly. You wanted to get out of there as soon as you could. You quickly handed him back his handkerchief, with a clipped goodnight, but he stopped you. “Wait,” He said, with another sigh. Peering at him from over your shoulder, you saw him gesture to a table, where a single ceramic cup of tea rested. Warily, you sat across from the cup, and he returned to where he had been sitting before you barged in.

It was a long, silent minute before he spoke. You could hear crickets through the window a few feet away. He was looking at a random spot in the nearest wall. “I’m sorry.”

_Well, that was unexpected._ You laughed drily. “Captain, if Hange forced you to say that—“

“She didn’t.” He was looking at you directly in the eye now. You were both quiet again. Levi continued to take sips from his cup, holding it by the rim. _How many quirks does this guy have?_

“I’m from there too.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

Levi rubbed his temple. “The _Underground,_ brat.” Your mouth formed an “o” shape. You rubbed your left arm unconsciously, and Levi’s eyes went to it. “How is it healing?” “…Good, I think?” He nodded once. Took another sip.

Your impulse to bolt out of the room was still there, albeit fainter this time. Curiosity had gotten the best of you. “Captain, when you say that you’re from there… do you mean that you had resided there?”

His eyes were closed. “Yes.” His cup was empty now, and he set it off to the side. “Nineteen years.” He was getting up, and you wanted to stop him and ask him more questions, but you weren’t going to push your luck. Levi walked towards the nearby wall, the one that he was eyeing earlier, and reached out to touch it. He ran his fingers along the grain of the wood before pausing momentarily, then dropped his hand from the wall. His back was towards you when he spoke his final words for that night.

“Go get some rest, trainee.”


End file.
